


Get Busy Living

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Auror Harry Potter, Breakfast, Coffee, Drinking & Talking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Gardens & Gardening, Getting Together, HP ScarryFest 2021, Hand Jobs, Harry is trying to figure out how to live his life, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, POV Alternating, Scorpius is a responsible adult, Talking, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), cross generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: At Ginny’s wedding reception, Harry Potter's mood is low. Neither Auror partner Draco’s caustic remarks, nor the free-flowing liquor are really helping his bitter thoughts. Or perhaps he simply needs more whisky.Meanwhile, Scorpius feels hopeful about Albus’s attempts to set him up with Harry.  But if there’s one thing more important than indulging in his years-long infatuation with Harry, it’s Harry’s well-being.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter & Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: HP ScarryFest 2020-2021





	Get Busy Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swisstae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swisstae/gifts).



> My fic for the Scarry Fest! Thanks to the mods for organising the fest. I'm happy to be part of it because I love the pairing! The title is a snippet of the famous quote "Get busy living or get busy dying", taken from the film The Shawshank Redemption.  
> Thanks swisstae for this amazing prompt – I fell in love with the scene right away! Hope you enjoy what I made of it.
> 
>  **Prompt #10:**  
>  Ginny's just gotten married again, and Harry's getting steadily drunker at the reception. He's happy for her, of course. But she's got her real happily ever after, and now Harry just looks like her pathetic ex-husband in the corner. Scorpius just wants to know what's wrong. (Bonus if Al pushes him towards Harry, because he already knows what his dad wants, even if Harry doesn't know it himself.)
> 
> Huge thanks to my lovely E for her masterful beta, all the encouragement and just everything! You are the best.  
> <3

Scorpius had always liked the Potter cottage. It was a big home near Ottery St Mary with a white painted brick exterior, a huge garden, surrounded by cobblestone walls, that had the most beautiful flowers in summer; almost all of them non-magical and native to the lush greenery of Devon. Though, every time Scorpius tried to picture his best friend’s Albus’s life in his family home, one integral part was missing. Harry hadn’t been living here for years and years and still, there were all those little things that connected the man to this place.

Obviously, there were family photos in which Harry hugged his children or Ginny, in which he was amidst the exuberant Weasley family, and Scorpius couldn’t help but wonder whether Harry sometimes felt like an outsider. There were also little remnants of Harry left which weren’t noticeable if you didn’t look for them. For instance, there was a book series on Quidditch history on the Potter cottage shelves that only contained the first three books. The others could be found in the bottom row of a bookshelf in Harry’s townhouse.

The townhouse was an odd home. Scorpius had spent long evenings during his hols there, together with Dad, Albus and, of course, Harry. While the living room was full of personal decorations, intriguing books, and files piled high from Harry’s and Dad’s work as Auror partners, the rest of the house looked barely inhabited. Plain bedrooms for Harry’s children, a bland study with unread books and an unused bureau, a plain kitchen, and Scorpius had even gotten a glimpse of Harry’s nondescript bedroom. The interior of the townhouse lacked everything that Harry was.

“Scorpius? Move your arse up here.”

Scorpius lingered at the foot of the stairs for a moment longer, his gaze turned towards the glimpse of the living room, his vision tracking all the way out the window into the front garden, then followed Albus’s voice to the first floor.

“Are you ready yet?” Scorpius asked when he entered Albus’s bedroom. His friend was dressed in a shiny, emerald-green suit and jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath and no tie. Dark jeans were combined with an elegant black belt. His outfit for the wedding reception that would start soon looked way more casual than his robes for the earlier Bonding Ceremony.

“You look great,” Scorpius said without waiting for Albus’s answer. The wizard was still facing the mirror, carding his fingers through his black, unruly hair without much of an effect on his appearance.

“Yeah,” Albus said with one last glance into the mirror before he turned to Scorpius, giving him a once-over that was accompanied by a musing hum. “Now, let me fix you up.”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t know I needed fixing.” Choking back laughter, Scorpius shook his head but he let Albus start to fumble with his hair without putting up a fight. He was still dressed in light-blue festive robes, a matching waistcoat, white button-down, and perfectly tailored trousers; clothes that had cost his Dad a fortune when they had only so much money. Still, Dad insisted on buying tailored clothes for him.

Albus took a step back and eyed Scorpius critically. “You know what? You look way too uptight. Get rid of the robes. Your waistcoat and shirt alone will look much better.”

“If you insist. But I’m not taking off my tie.” Scorpius loosened the brooch that held his robes together and shrugged out of the flowing fabric. With his lips pursed, Scorpius took in the unmade bed and the untidy state of the room, unwilling to.discard his pristine robes anywhere in the mess.

“How can you still live here?” Scorpius asked Albus. “And how come you can’t even keep this one little room clean and tidy?”

Albus smirked. “You only say that because you have your own flat now – which is quite daft if you ask me. Your Dad would pamper you like a prince. I, for my part, am going to enjoy life to the fullest in my teenage bedroom until mum kicks me out. Or until I’m in a serious relationship or something, I don’t know. Mum insists that I’m doing my own laundry… But still – free food, mate!”

“Yes, that’s all well and good. But the _freedom_ , Albus. We’ve been travelling around the world for a whole year. I couldn’t give up all the liberties that come with being by myself. I said, the tie stays!” Scorpius swatted away Albus’s hands and shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Well, good for you. I’m going to enjoy my free food when I’m waking up all hungover in the afternoon tomorrow. You know, you should roll up your sleeves. It’s bloody July and your forearms look quite fit.”

Before Scorpius could protest, Albus undid the cuffs of Scorpius’s shirt. While he was neatly rolling up the sleeves, James popped his head in the room. “First guests are already arriving. What are you two still doing up here?”

“I’m prettying Scorpius up for Dad.”

“Ew,” James said without much spite, but pulled a face either way.

Scorpius only rolled his eyes at his friend. “That’s what you’re doing? Really?”

“Of course. A wedding is the perfect occasion to get his attention. Everyone gets fucking sappy over weddings. He’ll feel lonely. Or horny. _Both_ , at best. Besides, you don’t look like a schoolboy today, that’ll be a plus. Remember last time when you-”

“Oh, Merlin… Don’t, Albus.”

“When you tried to hit on him? Dad was so into it until you put your Slytherin scarf on like a bloody Fifth-Year. Might as well pin on your prefect badge and ask him for tutoring in DADA. No surprise that he beat a hasty retreat if you ask me. Not today, though, my lovey-dovey friend. Today you will not only act like the precocious nineteen-year-old you are, but also look like one.”

Feeling a little uneasy that his infatuation with Harry, which dated back _years_ by now, had to be the subject of discussion, Scorpius couldn’t help the blush that crept up his cheeks. He had long abandoned all hope that his strong feelings towards Harry would calm down any time soon. In the same vein, Scorpius had stopped trying to deny that he was in love. James knew, Lily knew. Even his Dad knew. It was only Harry himself that hadn't got the owl or thought no reaction at all would be the most effective rebuff.

“All right,” Albus said, a proud smile on his face. “Now you like a handsome young man, mate. Turn off your geekiness and be as forward as possible. Dad won’t know you’re flirting until you’re practically dry-humping him.” Albus’s advice earned him another exasperated groan from his brother and a nervous chuckle from Scorpius.

~

“This feels like a sodding Hogwarts alumni reunion.” Draco pulled out the chair next to Harry, turning it to face away from the table and towards the guests of the wedding reception instead. He watched them in disbelief. “Look at all these buffoons, Potter.”

Harry knew the sight perfectly well as he’d been looking that direction for quite a while himself. Regardless, he braced himself with a generous gulp of whisky and followed Draco’s gaze, refreshing his gloomy thoughts with the sight that met his eyes.

The wedding reception was held in the beautiful garden of their- no, _Ginny’s_ house. Guests were chattering, laughing and dancing, and Draco was entirely right. There were an awful lot of faces that Harry had known since school. A dozen or more couples, tied together by the remnants of war and trapped with one another by habit for decades. Ron and Hermione, George and Angelina, Neville and Hannah, Luna and Blaise, Dean and Seamus, Theo and Daphne. They mingled with the rest of the extended Weasley family, including the next generation who were now slowly but surely growing into young adults. Already _were_ young adults in some cases, Harry reminded himself.

In the setting sun, the scene was bathed in peach-coloured light. Fruit trees filled the summer air with a cloying scent; fruit trees that Harry and his ex-wife had once planted together with what had felt like a whole life ahead of them.

Harry harrumphed and deliberately stopped his train of thought. Every hint of joy in the other guests faces and especially memories of a family life that would have evoked mirth or at least bittersweet joy, left him nothing but sickened today.

After a moment of silence between them, Draco drawled, “Pansy and Ginny. Who would’ve bloody thought?”

Harry took another sip of his whisky. He knew that Draco only said that to provoke him, to trick him into crying it all out at once while the bastard wouldn’t even look in his eye. Spend the better part of a decade working together as Auror partners and one knows what makes the other tick. “You can’t possibly still be in denial. They’ve been dating for three years or so,” Harry answered Draco nonchalantly.

“And still…” Summoning a glass and powering himself two fingers, Draco added, “Well, I bet their love life must be feral.”

With a groan Harry leaned his weight on his elbows on the table. His head and shoulders felt too heavy to carry them. “Just why?” He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know why Draco had to say something about Harry’s ex’s sex life or why Draco wouldn’t just leave him alone.

Draco turned back to the table then. Sipping his whisky, his eyes flickered over Harry, his expression haughty. “If I were over there, watching you slumped at the far end of the table with a bottle of whisky – excuse me for being so blunt, but I might jump to the conclusion you were crying over your ex.”

Groaning in response, Harry refilled his tumbler. “Well. You know I’m not.”

“I do.”

“Why do you care then, Malfoy?”

“It’s about your reputation. You’ll never find yourself a decent bloke or bird if everyone thinks you’re still bewailing your long-lost marriage.”

“It’s not like I haven't tried.” Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s arched eyebrow. “What?”

“Let’s see… That was – what? – two years ago, you prat. And Silas was a repugnant nuisance. The git promenaded you like a bloody trophy. Thank Merlin and Morgana you came to your senses eventually. Took you long enough, though.”

“He was all right before we got together… At least I tried, give me some credit. You on the other hand…”

Draco glared at Harry. The wizard didn’t even have to open his mouth for Harry to know what he would say; even now, six years after Astoria’s death. “I don’t cheat on her.” Just like Harry expected, the answer came in a knee jerk reaction. For just a moment, Harry wanted to satisfy the cruel itch that was telling him to reciprocate Draco’s provocations and push him where it hurt the most, even though he knew that that would go too far. In lieu of saying anything at all, Harry drank more whisky.

After a drawn-out silence between them, Draco sighed as though he’d accepted defeat. “Fine, Potter. Whatever is it that you are sulking about like a bloody teenager?”

“Merlin, do I really look that pathetic?”

“Awfully pathetic.”

There was no way Harry would tell Draco about his ridiculous mood. He hadn’t quite gotten behind it himself. All Harry knew was that Ginny had found someone to spend her life with. Whom she took out for dinner or ate homecooked meals with on the settee. Who was there every night and who would still be there in the morning. Someone to simply _live_ with.

He wasn’t thinking of Ginny in a romantic way anymore and probably hadn’t for years. He hadn’t for a long time even before they’d gotten divorced. But Harry was jealous of what she had. There was no denying the fact. Ginny had found her happily ever after. And that had never been him. However ludicrous and unimportant this thought was, right now, sitting in the garden that Harry had once called his own, this notion felt omnipresent. Harry felt like he belonged neither here nor in the townhouse that he called home now; he felt restless. And his own perhaps romantic, but very conflicting feelings towards his son’s best friend didn’t help at all.

“Look at them!” Harry blurted out even though he didn’t really trust himself to speak. He gestured to the guests and Draco’s head turned around, then back to Harry. “All happy and so fucking in love. _It’s disgusting_.”

Draco smirked. “You sound quite like me, Potter.”

“And so fucking clueless,” Harry went on, ignoring Draco. “They have no idea about the crimes we witness, Draco. Not a single clue. They sit there, dance and laugh, well-protected. It’s like they _forgot_.”

“Or maybe it’s the whisky talking… Stop rambling like a grumpy old veteran. Want one?” Draco fetched a little vial from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and held it out to Harry.

“I’m not drinking whisky to ruin all the effects with a Sober Up Potion, idiot. Maybe _grumpy, old veteran_ suits me just fine tonight.”

“You’re insufferable.” Rolling his eyes, Draco pocketed the potion. “Do tell. Is this about work then? They offered you the promotion again when you were called in yesterday, didn't they? Just accept it and put the poor buggers out of their misery.”

With an exasperated sigh, Harry made a point of downing his whisky. “Today might be the one day in my life that I _have not been thinking_ about work, thank you very much. And we both know I won’t accept it.”

“Yes, because it’s less likely to get yourself killed in the field as Head Auror.”

Irritated and a little angry, Harry scowled at his close colleague of the last few messy years. No matter how enriching their friendship, one which had begun out of sheer necessity when forced to work as partners—Draco’s caustic remarks didn't have the same effect tonight as they usually did. Neither did Harry feel like yelling at Draco nor would he suddenly burst into laughter over Draco’s cynicism. Harry couldn’t blame Draco for his ways. _The man has his own ghosts_ , Harry thought while refilling both their glasses.

Despite his empathy, Harry started to get impatient with his partner. Draco wouldn't pause in his efforts trying to get a rise out of him if Harry didn’t stop throwing him free bait like he was. Harry just wanted to numb himself, and stop his thoughts from wandering in all kinds of complicated directions, starting with Ginny and this bloody house to his recklessness in the field to all these couples enjoying their nice, easy and oh-so- _normal_ relationships.

Taking a deep breath and another gulp of whisky, Harry tried to stop brooding over things that he couldn’t change.

His efforts didn't help very much. Harry’s temper couldn’t be reined in, although he managed to redirect the topic of discussion. “We both know that you’d make a much better Head Auror. You’re organised and it’s your nature to order people around.”

“Well, we both know, I won’t get a promotion.”

“Now, that’s why I won’t have it. Bloody hypocrites.” They clinked their glasses. Even though Draco had pursued a career at the DMLE and had proven his loyalty and ambition to redeem himself over and over, the Malfoy name was still besmirched; especially when the opinion of Ministry officials mattered. Even Scorpius had struggled with biased schoolmates in Hogwarts.

With a sigh, Harry downed his glass. For tonight, he’d finally given up hope of finding a topic that wouldn’t either evoke a crippling depression or boiling anger within him.

~

Finally, Scorpius managed to get away from Aunt Dromeda’s lengthy talk about the apparent benefits of marriage at a young age over nonbinding, long-term dating. Albus had been right; everyone was talking about love, relationships, and children, and all were only too eager to put Scorpius in the centre of attention as the ‘fine, young gentleman’ he apparently was. Talking about dating felt wrong in so many ways. Even though Scorpius wouldn’t have lied if someone had asked him whether he was interested in someone, he wouldn’t exactly rub it in their faces either. He'd been too well brought up for that. 

Scorpius was glad to run into Albus, but an eyeroll greeted him. “What are you doing in here? Let’s find Dad. I bet he’s outside.”

“You’re exceptionally persistent today, Albus.”

“Well, as I said. You have to seize this opportunity, mate.”

They made their way through the crowd. Although Scorpius was long used to the large number of the extended Potter-Weasley-Family-Plus-Friends-Ensemble that had now grown further with Pansy’s relations, the amount of people was a bit overwhelming. Especially since he still recalled peaceful and quiet holidays in their flat, only Dad and he after Mum. But ever since Scorpius had become friends with Albus and Dad had been assigned to work with Harry, they had ended up with Potter tribe one way or another.

It wasn’t hard to spot Harry. Scorpius’s eyes fell on his Dad and Harry, slouched at the far end of the enormously long table that hardly anyone else sat at. The way they were talking to each other might have looked a little intimidating to anyone who wasn’t as close with them as their sons.

For a second, Scorpius thought that they were either winding each other up or discussing politics. But when Albus and he approached their dads, Scorpius knew that something was off. Instead of wearing his usual crooked grin while bickering with Dad, Harry looked unusually grim and bitter. Even though Scorpius had seen him in such a mood several times before—usually when May came around –-he thought that something else must be wrong with Harry tonight.

Dad looked a little sore as well, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Whatever it was that was going on here was probably about Harry.

But to Scorpius’s delight, Harry never failed to show that he was an attentive and caring person. As soon as his eyes flickered across to Albus and Scorpius, he wandlessly summoned two glasses. A tumbler for Albus and a wine glass for Scorpius, one that filled itself with white wine. The flattering sensation of this gesture was flattened a little when Scorpius saw Harry’s expression; he wore a short, forced smile and green eyes, intoxicated with bitterness.

“Enjoying the party so far?” Dad asked with a slow smile and Albus immediately began chatting with him. Scorpius glanced over the bottle of whisky in the middle of the table and wasn’t surprised to see that less than half of it remained. Worry took over Scorpius as he watched Harry, who was silent and wore a scowl on his face, still sipping more alcohol. Feeling guilty that he was so quiet, Scorpius brought his attention back to the conversation.

“Well, I just had to help Mum with one of the wedding presents. There was a chest that tried to bite people and was spitting coins at them,” Albus said.

Dad hummed. “I bet it’s from some bigoted pure-blood hag who isn’t a big fan of same-sex Bonding. Did it hit Pansy?”

“With full force to the head.”

Dad hid his gloating grin with another sip of his whisky. With his eyes darting between their small group, Albus cleared his throat. “Well, actually… I’m not quite sure that I fixed it all that well. And you’re much more experienced with this kind of magic, Draco.”

Scorpius felt both thankful and a little sorry for his friend’s weak try. When he watched his Dad’s sharp grey eyes, Scorpius was sure that the older wizard knew perfectly well what Albus was playing at.

“I could help,” Harry interposed, presumably stricken by the idea that he could be useful. His eyes looked dazed and Scorpius wondered whether his Dad and Harry had shared that bottle of whisky entirely equally between them.

Dad’s eyes pierced Harry for a second, then locked onto Scorpius. His frown and the thin line of his lips looked so concerned that Scorpius automatically smiled at him, hopeful to cheer him up if only just a little bit.

“You stay put, Potter. The last thing any of us needs is the bloody Saviour fixing a wedding gift that’s prone to biting.”

Harry snorted like he usually did whenever Dad couldn’t hold back from name calling, but even that came out differently. Harry’s weird mood and his silence alarmed Scorpius. Fortunately, it hadn’t been the case often, but Dad as well as Harry had both gotten field injuries before. Glassy eyes and bitter smiles could mean anything, ranging from getting out of the wrong side of the bed all the way to a terminal curse diagnosed in St Mungo’s; Scorpius’s thoughts couldn’t stop spiralling.

He could only barely contain himself, panicking silently until his Dad and Albus had left the table. “What’s the matter?”

Harry looked a little puzzled and braced his elbows heavily on the table. “What do you mean?”

“You look devastated.”

It took a long minute and two fingers of whisky for Harry to answer him and even then he didn't say much. “It’s nothing. I’m just being ridiculous.”

“Well, obviously it’s serious enough to get yourself drunk at Ginny’s wedding reception. Are you all right? Is there anything wrong in a life-threatening kind of way?”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face. The bitterness in his eyes dissolved into exhaustion. “You shouldn’t sit here and worry about me, Scorpius. Why don’t you enjoy yourself over with the others?”

Scorpius glared at Harry. “You know very well that I enjoy a good talk over a crowd of chattering and dancing people. But fine, you don’t have to tell me. Just tell me that no one is about to die, and I’ll be pleased.”

“No one is about to die,” Harry answered, his tone a little irritated and raspy with drink.

“Have you told my Dad what’s up with you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, you should tell _someone_. You look devastated, I mean it.”

Taking a deep breath and gripping his glass tightly, Harry looked like he was about to scream at Scorpius. Scorpius didn't care a whit. If Harry needed a friend to scream at in order to brighten his mood a little, he would gladly take every bit of Harry’s rage.

“Why do you care?” Harry asked and suddenly his eyes fixed on Scorpius’s own instead of skittering over everywhere else in the wedding reception. His irises looked almost black in the dim light of the floating candles and charmed fairy lights. But his gaze didn’t look as bright and secure as he usually did, and Scorpius was sure that this wasn’t only due to the amount of alcohol Harry had tonight.

“You’d do the same for me. You always listen to me when I need to talk,” Scorpius said, softer than before. He thought of the countless times that Harry had picked up on his mood, had taken the time to listen to him carefully or had worked hard to cheer him up. Reminding Harry of that would push the right buttons, Scorpius thought. But he didn’t get anywhere near as far.

All colour had disappeared from Harry’s face. The wizard closed his eyes and rubbed his face again, reaching out with his hand and finding the table to brace against after a few unsuccessful tries.

“Shit, are you okay? Are you going to throw up?” Scorpius asked, voice tight with concern. Leaping to his feet, he rounded the table to sit beside Harry. He supported him with a hand on his shoulder and tried to shield him from view at the same time. There was no need to cause a commotion; Harry would hate that.

“No,” Harry groaned. “But maybe I drank a little too quickly.”

Scorpius thought for a moment. He knew that his Dad usually carried Sober Up Potions with him, especially to an event like a wedding reception. Just when he wanted to go find him, he felt the slight tremble of Harry’s arm under his touch. When Scorpius tried to meet Harry’s gaze, he looked away but there were tears rolling down his face.

At a loss for words, Scorpius petted Harry’s arm for a moment, trying to comfort him and resisting the primal urge to hug him. To stroke through his hair. It pained Scorpius to see Harry this sad without talking to anyone about what was on his mind. And the last thing that Harry needed was for the other guests to notice and to make a scene out of his unhappiness. 

When a sob shook Harry’s entire body, Scorpius couldn’t bear to stay a moment longer. “Let’s get out of here.”

Harry angrily wiped at his face before he spoke. “What do you mean?”

“You’re in no state to be here tonight. You won’t want to wake up tomorrow and think ‘ _Oh, did Hermione notice? Does Pansy think I’m jealous?_ ’ Besides, you don’t want Ginny and her wife to remember their big day as the night you got yourself completely blotto by ten and cried the blues. No, I’m having none of that. I’m taking you home, now, with me.”

Something in Scorpius’s tone must have either convinced or intimidated Harry. His teary eyes flickered over Scorpius and, after a deep breath, he asked in a small voice, “Apparate or Floo?”

“I didn’t drink much, you can side-Along with me.” Scorpius stood up and intuitively held out his hand. Harry took it.

Scorpius guided their way along the meandering cobblestone path that led from the back garden around the perimeter of the house. Harry’s hand rested in his own, limp and too warm in the muggy summer night. Though, all Scorpius could concentrate on was getting Harry safe and comfortable.

~

The ringing in Harry’s ears grew more prominent the further away from the party Scorpius dragged him. 

The wizard hadn’t felt this helpless in _years_. He could scarcely believe he’d had managed to get himself so completely hammered that Scorpius had been forced to play chaperone and Apparate him home. Smart, responsible, kind-hearted, young Scorpius, who should absolutely not have to see Harry in this pitiful state—save, take care of him.

“You shouldn’t have to…” The words tumbled from Harry’s lips without him wishing to say anything at all. He heard the lull as his sentence stumbled into silence and felt too embarrassed to continue. “I mean.”

“Hold on tight,” Scorpius told him, and his sudden halt caused Harry to bump into him. He stilled, close to Scorpius’s body. He radiated a heat, very different to the heavy summer. Scorpius’s skin was tanned—Harry had noticed earlier that day—but looked fair, and almost eerie in the dead of night. He couldn’t take his eyes off the pallor of the boy’s face. Harry caught himself—he _almost leaned in_. He almost gave in to his want, but he managed to stay upright and at a distance that was appropriate enough.

“Ready?” Scorpius asked and his expression looked concerned. “Hold on tight, all right?”

When Harry realised that Scorpius was actually waiting for a reaction, he agreed, and moved his hand up Scorpius’s arm to hold tightly him. He tried to remember where they were going but couldn’t.

Scorpius turned on the spot, pulling Harry with him, and for a moment, Harry’s instincts took over. Apparition was an Auror’s daily business, and his body knew how to breathe, knew to keep his shoulders aligned and his head straight. Still, he found himself pressed up against Scorpius when they appeared far away from his old home.

Harry quickly took a fleeting step backwards, then turned to take a look around. They were in Scorpius’s flat, a place that Harry had only seen the once when he had intended to help Scorpius move in. It'd been about two month ago, not long after he’d come back from his world trip with Albus. But Draco had everything arranged without any extra help needed, so they'd all ended up at a nearby pub instead. Harry had hardly even managed a glimpse of the finished furnished state of the place.

They were in a long room with a combined kitchen and living space, a small balcony off to the one side and a little corridor to the other. There was a cosy looking couch against a deep-green painted wall. Large bookshelves covered the wall that the couch was facing. To the other side of the room there was a white kitchenette with wooden countertops and a plain stone-framed hearth.

“Please, sit,” Scorpius said and gestured towards the couch.

Harry slumped down on it and let his head fall back, his vision spinning, and his ears ringing in the silence of the room. He flung his arm over his face, hoping to ease the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Harry didn’t know for how long he’d stayed like this, but then rummaging in the kitchen caught his attention. He wanted to know what Scorpius was doing. He got up, stumbled into the coffee table, and made his way over to the kitchenette. It took Harry a moment for his brain to understand what his eyes were seeing. Scorpius was handling a cauldron, his stirring monotonous and gentle, watching the contents brew, while.his slender frame leant against the counter.

Harry got a better look at his host than earlier at the reception. Scorpius had long legs, clad in slim fit trousers, defined forearms, and dexterous fingers curled around a stirring rod. The light and off-blue colour of his outfit suited his complexion and his platinum-blond hair but seemed especially to suit the eyes that Harry couldn’t see right now, because the cauldron had Scorpius’s full attention.

Harry slowly approached closer, until he could glimpse at the contents of the cauldron, too.

“What’s this?” Harry asked, although he could easily guess from the colour and scent of the potion.

“I didn’t have any Sober Up Potions, only a Pepper Up. So, I’m adding some ingredients to it and brewing one for you.” Scorpius smiled and Harry’s eyes locked onto his pink, soft-looking lips.

Harry only woke from his daze when Scorpius laughed softly. “Let’s sit back down,” he said, and Harry felt an affectionate touch to his arm, saw his slate-grey eyes, open and fond. Harry leaned in for a kiss. Their lips touched and Harry lingered there for a moment before he pulled back, his eyes still fixated on those perfect lips.

The twitch in his groin woke Harry from his trance and his heart started to pound in his chest. He took a decisive step backwards to give Scorpius some space, ready to give him a chance to step out of the situation. But Scorpius didn’t. Instead, the younger wizard was still smiling at Harry with his soft, gentle expression and all dressed up in his perfect tie and crisp white shirt and perfectly tapered waistcoat.

“Drink,” Scorpius said and pressed a mug into Harry’s hands.

Harry had never been so grateful for a Sober Up Potion in his entire life. Yet a Sober Up only worked so well. Harry still felt dazed; just sharp enough to be horrified about what he’d just done. Ironically, he felt like he needed another whisky to cope.

“Did I really just kiss you?” Harry asked while he sat back down on the couch. Scorpius Accioed a glass of water which he pressed into Harry’s hands, stopping him from burying his face in them. Hiding seemed to be no option, unfortunately.

“You did,” Scorpius said. Harry’s eyes darted over to him at the tone of his voice which was gentle rather than perplexed or irritated, much to Harry’s surprise. A smile tugged at the corners of Scorpius’s mouth, but his gaze was inscrutable.

“Look, I’m really sorry. If you want me to go right now, I’ll just-“

“No,” Scorpius said hastily. There was nervousness to his eyes, and he tucked a few of his strands of hair behind his ears. He sat with his legs folded beneath him and his elbow resting on the backrest of the couch, his body fully turned towards Harry. Harry had just ruined his relationship with one of his best friend’s son—and perhaps the friendship with said friend, too, if this ever got back to Draco. Harry couldn’t stop staring at Scorpius. The potion made it much easier to focus on the young wizard too. On the way his soft, white hair fell across his face, the way his stormy eyes looked back at Harry, how the tie wrapped around his neat collar, his pale neck.

It almost physically pained him to tear his eyes off Scorpius, but still he managed, and fixated them on the clear liquid that filled the glass in his hands instead.

~

Maybe this hadn’t happened the way that Scorpius had pictured it in his head but happen it had. Harry had kissed him and the best part about it was that it had been _Harry_ who had made the first move. Even though Scorpius couldn’t believe his luck, he knew too that this was a very risky moment.

Harry looked both horrified and ashamed; if Scorpius couldn’t find the right words now, there’d be a good possibility that his kiss would stay a one-off event.

Taking a deep breath, Scorpius reached out to lay his hand on Harry’s forearm, caressing the tanned skin and black hair slightly. But Harry still looked down into his untouched water.

“Harry,” Scorpius began, and he observed Harry’s chest rise in a deep inhale.

“I need something stronger.” All his breath left Harry at once as he spoke.

Gripping Harry’s arm tighter, Scorpius objected. “Harry, you just sobered up a little. In fact, you’re probably still drunk,” he said decisively. Then he added, a little more careful, “You're worried about nothing.”

“That’s really sweet of you to say. I just don’t know if it’s that healthy to pretend nothing happened. But I’ll gladly do that if it’s okay with you.”

Taking Harry’s hand in his, Scorpius hoped to convey at least some of the mixed and intense emotions he was experiencing, ranging from excitement about the kiss to deep concern for Harry. Considering that Harry had been knocked sideways at the wedding reception already, he must’ve been completely overwhelmed by now, no matter whether their kiss was meant to be a confession or nothing but a drunken mistake.

Scorpius’s voice was only a whisper. “Look at me, will you?”

With a sigh Harry turned his head away from the contents of his glass and looked back at Scorpius. Scorpius opened his mouth, ready to speak. But when Scorpius saw Harry’s eyes, tired and worried and green like jade in the warm lights of Scorpius’s living room, he came to a decision. “Look, you’ve obviously been going through something today. I don’t think it would be a wise idea if we discuss this now, but we will tomorrow. Just sleep here and we’ll talk in the morning.”

Harry’s expression was wary, and he emptied away half his water glass before he answered. “Are you going to tell your Dad? Fuck, I’m sorry, this isn’t what I should ask you right now. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t! It’s just…”

“You talk like you think you've taken advantage of me, but you haven’t. And it’s none of my Dad’s business whether we kiss.” Scorpius sighed. “There’s nothing to worry about, Harry. You haven’t been yourself today. Get some rest.”

For just a moment, Scorpius was sure that Harry would insist on Apparating home instead and meet again tomorrow—at best. But, after the other man rubbed his palms over his exhausted eyes, he agreed.

After some back and forth about the sleeping arrangements, Scorpius finally agreed that Harry would sleep on the settee. While Harry was going to the bathroom and getting ready for the night, Scorpius exhausted his repertoire of Cushioning Charms and Cooling Charms on the couch and the sheets he draped over Harry’s makeshift bed. Only now did he notice how unpleasant the temperature in his flat had gotten in the hot summer night.

“You didn’t have to do this. But thank you,” came Harry’s voice from behind Scorpius while he was tapping his wand against the blanket for a last few charms that would keep the sheets cool and soft overnight. When Scorpius turned around, Harry had his suit jacket hung over his arm. His white shirt was unbuttoned, and his tie hung loose around his neck. It had hardly ever been this difficult to be responsible for Scorpius than it was in this moment.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Scorpius’s gaze lingered on the olive skin and black chest hair that was revealed by the open shirt; natural, thick pecs and abs built over years in his demanding job. Scorpius had seen Harry’s body several times. Harry wasn’t exactly shy about roaming his house in the morning with nothing but his pants on and a mug of coffee in hand. Scorpius thought of lazy afternoons in the summer breaks, too; sunbathing at the side of a river with Harry and Albus, and sometimes James and Lily as well. Although it was more than a year ago since they'd had the chance to spend a day relaxing in the grass and splashing about in a river, the memories felt so palpable and familiar.

“Really. Thank you,” Harry repeated. And for the first time that night, Scorpius saw at least a hint of a smile on Harry’s face.

~

When Harry blinked his eyes open there was one blissful moment in which he was completely unaware of his surroundings, but his memory caught up to him much quicker than he would’ve liked. The worst part was that he couldn’t quite remember the moment Scorpius had dragged him from the wedding reception. What Harry did remember though, was that he had completely overstepped the mark afterwards. 

Merlin, Harry had seen this boy grow up, known him ever since Scorpius had been accepted into Hogwarts. He rubbed the sleep from his face, ignoring both a surprisingly mild headache and the part of him that wanted to Apparate home and pretend that nothing had happened.

Harry sat up with a sigh, feeling like he had definitely met a new low the day before. He couldn’t believe Scorpius had been this kind and polite to him despite the way he had behaved. Sometimes Harry couldn’t help but wonder why Scorpius spent time with him at all.

Harry’s eyes fell on a few magazines on the coffee table. There was a special edition about magical insects on the top of the pile and it looked like it’s been thumbed through several times. Underneath it Harry found a Muggle magazine called _National Geographic_ , and underneath that the newest issue of _Witch Weekly_. There was also a thin booklet that looked very much like one of the romance novels Molly would sometimes read and Harry couldn’t hold back his amused smile.

This little glimpse of Scorpius’s latest reads had evoked Harry’s curiosity about the younger man. In contrast to the rest of the rather neat living space, the bookshelves looked like a colourful hotchpotch of not only books, but also quills, painted skulls, figurines, postcards, and letters. Skimming through the spines, Harry found many books on Charms, Potions, several encyclopaedias, and some ancient history tomes; quite a few of the books about history and science looked Muggle. A pretty smart little library, Harry thought.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught Harry’s attention and he found several photographs on the wall, happily smiling and waving their hands at him. On most of them Albus was to be found somewhere, the sullen scowl of his teenage years growing into a crooked grin over the years of his and Scorpius’s friendship. There was a picture that was taken in Harry’s living room. His photo-self, dressed in a Henley shirt and jeans, grinned into the camera, his arm flung over Scorpius’s shoulder. Harry faintly recalled that this might have been taken on Scorpius’s seventeenth or eighteenth birthday.

“Good morning!”

Harry almost jumped from the sudden enthusiastic voice in the room. “Morning, Scorpius.” He watched Scorpius put some bags on the kitchen counter and added with a smile, “I always forget that you’re an early riser.” Suddenly very aware that he was wearing nothing but his pants, Harry rummaged through his clothes from the day before, ready to Scourgify his shirt.

“Stop! Are you mad?” The panic in Scorpius’s voice was quickly replaced with a chuckle. “It will ruin the fabric, silly. Wait, I’ll go find a shirt for you.”

“A Scourgify is good enough most of the time. With my Auror robes, anyway,” Harry said while he followed Scorpius, pausing on the threshold to Scorpius’s bedroom, and leaning against the doorframe, watching Scorpius card quickly through his closet.

“Well, it doesn’t exactly destroy the shirt. Some materials are just more likely than others to lose their sleekness when Scourgified. And this shirt of yours looks high-quality. Ah. Here you go, Harry.”

Harry catches the black t-shirt that Scorpius threw him. Alongside the words _Potions stir up my blood_ was an imprint of a cauldron and several hooded wixen on the front.

“It’s merch for a metal band. That’s a song title,” Scorpius said while Harry pulled the shirt over his head.

“Why is it that all wizarding bands come up with poor puns for titles?”

“Interesting question… Maybe magic and creative lyric writing occupy the same part of the brain. Let’s put on some Muggle music, shall we? Tea or coffee?”

Only when Scorpius stopped directly in front of him, did Harry realise that he was blocking the door. He quickly took a step backwards. Great. Three seconds of a drunken kiss and this was already getting awkward. But Scorpius didn’t look concerned at all. With some small wand movements and incantations, Scorpius spelled the windows open, cleaned the cauldron that he had used the night before, tuned a radio on that sat on a side table next to the couch, and then turned around to catch Harry staring. “Tea or coffee?” he repeated enthusiastically.

“Oh, er… Coffee, please.”

“Sure. It’s a stupid question, really. How else would either of us start the day?” Scorpius took a small copper pot and flipped it by the handle before putting it on the stove. Then he took something that looked like a container at first but turned out to be a grinder. Scorpius added beans and started to work it.

“What is this?” Harry asked at last and leaned on the kitchen counter to watch the process.

“This is a grinder, and this is an ibrik, like a Turkish coffee pot. It makes nice, strong coffee, and I’m sure you’ll love it. Ask Albus about it—once we’d travelled to Turkey, I couldn't get enough of it. The human body consists of approximately sixty percent water—I’m positively sure that I was at least thirty percent coffee during our travels.” Scorpius poured some water and ground coffee into the ibrik, stirred the concoction thoroughly, and put it on his magical burner.

Very soon as they were sitting at Scorpius’s small breakfast table, aromatic scented coffee, and fresh bagels in front of them, Scorpius was the one to address the dragon in the room. Or so Harry thought at first.

“So,” Scorpius began while he buttered his bagel, and his tone was still conversational but slightly careful. Harry cleared his throat, ready to awkwardly apologise again, but Scorpius asked, “What was it that was eating at you yesterday?”

“I- er…” Harry cleared his throat again. Thinking back, he still deemed his mood ridiculous.

“Why are you so ashamed of whatever it was that’s been preying on your mind? There’s no reason to be ashamed. Plus, you don’t wear it well. All gloomy and closed off. That’s not you.” A line creased between Scorpius’s eyebrows while his gaze locked on Harry’s. When he looked into his grey eyes, marbled like slate, Harry felt this stupid flutter in his chest that he couldn’t hold back lately. He knew he couldn’t say no to Scorpius.

“I think the wedding kind of started an unlucky train of thoughts for me. And seeing all the familiar faces… During the ceremony everything was good and well, but when I saw the garden, decorated for the reception—smelling these bloody peaches—I couldn’t stop to think about the house and how I’m still tied to it in so many ways. I shouldn’t be—it’s been years.”

“That’s funny. I thought about that, too, yesterday.”

Harry frowned at his bagel then glanced at Scorpius who had an understanding but faint smile on his face. “You did?”

“Yeah. But do go on. Tell me about what exactly you’ve been thinking about.”

~

 _Finally_ , Scorpius thought. Harry looked like he was deep in thought for a moment, yet like he was actually going to open up to Scorpius.

“Okay, listen… I know that this is completely wrong and irrational and…”

“You are allowed to be irrational when something gets you emotional, Harry. You don’t have to be a saint.”

“Yeah, but… I hate myself for even thinking this. But when I saw all this happiness—and, Merlin, especially in my old family home… I deserve that too, don’t I? I feel like I’m watching everyone else live their lives on occasion. Like I’m missing something meaningful. All I ever do is work through files in my living room, throw myself into the field with your Dad, and wake up in St Mungo’s with a headache.”

Scorpius digested this before he agreed, “You work a lot, Harry.”

“Usually, that’s what I want to do. _Usually_. But it’s been years since I took off more than a day or two—apart from the trips to France and the vacation in Egypt with you and the kids. It’s not that I don’t enjoy working hard, don’t get me wrong about that. Although I can’t remember the last time I caught myself doing something just for myself. Like flying or reading a book. Or even bloody dating! I’m sorry, is this an awkward thing to talk about? I probably shouldn’t-“

“Stop that!” Scorpius snapped, and Harry looked startled. “Not talking about dating, numpty. What I mean is—stop shutting me out like that. I’m an adult and _yes_ , _Circe_ , you can talk to me about dating. You only start talking about these things because you _know_ I’ll listen in the first place.”

“Erm, right, I…” Harry’s voice trailed off. Averting his gaze, he collected a few crumbs from his plate with his fingertip, and then he cleared his throat. “You’re right. Just… You’d tell me if you were uncomfortable talking about this, wouldn’t you?”

Scorpius snorted and rolled his eyes at Harry. “I swear to Hecate I would. Please. Do go on.”

“Well, I just feel like I don’t really _live_. You know what I mean? Everyone’s lives are happening around me and I feel like I’m flying a broom on autopilot.” Harry sipped his coffee and shook his head, his gaze directed out the window. “I can’t believe that I’m still so attached to that damn house and the garden.”

“Okay, this might sound like something your planner tells you to be all motivational and inspiring but hear me out: Your life won't happen without you living it.”

Harry sighed. “It’s not even that corny a thing to say. I should actually take that down in my planner or pin a memo on my board or something… It’s a hard thing to just do, though. Living.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, chewing their food and admiring the dazzling morning sun, bathing the busy street below in bright light.

“Did you land an apprenticeship yet?” Harry asked, his voice calmer than before.

“Haven’t received many answers, unfortunately.” Scorpius’s heart dropped a little at the thought. “I’m _really hopeful_ to be accepted for the Healer traineeship at St Mungo’s. That'd be my first choice.”

“Yeah, you’ve been talking about that since third or fourth year. Your NEWTs were near perfect, I’m sure they’ll accept you.” Harry’s warm smile became a chuckle. “Just fancy, you’ll end up fixing me up after every other mission. We should think of arranging lunch together in advance for every time that I’m brought in. Most of those potions they offer make me quite peckish.”

Scorpius huffed a laugh. “As long as you promise me to not blow yourself up. At least not too severely.”

Harry and Scorpius resumed looking out the open window for a while. A slight breeze found the way inside and tickled across Scorpius’s cheeks and under his hair. “You have the whole day off, right? We could go outside somewhere before it gets insufferably hot. What do you think?”

Harry looked surprised, but said, “Er- sure. Should I help clean up?” With just a flick of his wrist, the air was filled with Harry’s magic, prickling over Scorpius’s skin very similarly to the soft breeze before. The dishes flew over to the sink and started to scrub themselves, the coffee dregs vanished, and the leftover bagel tucked itself away in a paper bag.

“ _With you_ even household charms are exciting,” Scorpius said, holding up his arm to show Harry his goosebumps. “I demand a true display of your prowess, Harry Potter!” Scorpius added grandly as he stood up.

Harry’s roaring laugh was contagious. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”

“Joking, but I wouldn’t say no. Perhaps, I’d learn a thing or two. Just the mere presence of your magic is thrilling. It really feels powerful—that I haven’t been joking about. Tender, though,” Scorpius said genuinely and watched Harry _blush_.

Before Scorpius had a chance to use this momentum, Harry leaped to his feet and strutted over to the settee, and he started to put his trousers on. “Uhm… Could we stop by my house quickly? These aren’t particularly cosy for a trip.”

As soon as Harry was ready to go, Scorpius came up close to him and linked their arms, his heart fluttering. He gave Harry a big smile before he Side-Alonged them right into Harry’s entrance corridor, feeling the gentle pull of the wards as the allowing him over the threshold.

“Right, so…” Harry took a step away, eyes fixated on the floor. “I’ll quickly change. Then we can go wherever you like.”

With that he started to climb the stairs, leaving Scorpius in the quiet hallway. He glimpsed into the living room, seeing the familiar chaos of piled parchment files, discarded clothes, leftover takeaway under a strong Stasis, and some dirty dishes. Instead of sitting down on the couch there, Scorpius ventured to the end of the hallway where an archway led into the kitchen. A big window above a row of counters and a glass door took up almost all of the far wall and it provided a delightful view of the garden.

There was a small patio area, tiled with natural, grey stones, linked up to a long stretch of lawn with some evergreens to the sides. The lawn looked so pristine that it must’ve been spelled to stay perfectly trimmed. Several stone tiles led a pathway to a small pond, surrounded by low grass and small piled rocks. When Scorpius’s eyes followed the trail, he couldn’t stop himself from opening the door and stepping outside. The air was chilly, but as soon as he stepped onto the first stone tile in the grass, out of the shaded patio, the sun pleasantly warmed his face and his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment.

~

The sight of Scorpius standing in the middle of his garden was an unfamiliar one. It was rare for Harry to consciously look out there, but he was suddenly very aware of the intimacy of watching Scorpius, unguarded with his eyes closed and his face slanted to relish the sun. The younger man wore a casual olive-green shirt and dark cargo shorts and Harry thought for a moment that he knew hardly any person who was so naturally themselves the way Scorpius was.

“There you are,” Harry said after a moment as if he hadn’t been standing there for a minute. “Made up your mind where we should go? Just no crowded places, please, I’m in no mood for that.”

Scorpius turned around with a smile on his face, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. “What about staying here? We never spend time in your garden and it’s so nice.”

Harry let his gaze wander about the area, taking in all the plants and the charmed lawn and pond, all chosen to be practical. “You really think so?”

With mischievous laughter, Scorpius took a few steps to stand beneath the shades. “Well, no. It looks like something you’d see in a catalogue or in a magazine on how to create a perfectly normal and vacuous garden space of your own. What I do see here is potential, though. Let’s stay here anyway, Harry. Let’s do nothing at all, I feel lazy.”

It took barely half a minute for the pair to get settled. They set up some lounge chairs and fetched a few water bottles as well as a teapot. And suddenly Harry thought that relaxing in his garden wasn’t as bad as all that. It was, again, a quite unfamiliar thing for him to do, to lean back on a lounge chair and look up into the blue sky. But whatever it might have been inside of him that had held him back in these simple activities before, didn’t seem to object quite as hard right then.

“You’re still wearing my shirt,” Scorpius said next to Harry, his hand shielding his eyes from again.

Harry looked himself down to see that Scorpius’s black shirt still adorned his body. “Oh, right. Should I, er…”

Scorpius chuckled. “No, that’s all right. I just… like the look of it on you, I suppose.” Seeing his warm, perhaps even _fond_ , smile, squinted eyes, and sun-kissed face, Harry felt like he was magically drawn to Scorpius. He couldn’t take his eyes away from him.

Scorpius’s gaze drifted away from Harry’s, through the garden. “You know what this place needs? Flowers. You don’t have a single plant in bloom.”

A little startled, Harry followed his gaze. “Erm… Reckon that’s right.”

Withdrawing his wand, Scorpius aimed a nonverbal spell at one of the boxwood shrubs that surrounded the lawn. It started to sprout buds which slowly bloomed into white, delicate flowers, looking slightly off on the evergreen shrub. The next one grew pink roses and another one grew blue lilies. “There you go,” Scorpius said with a self-contented grin that broke off into unselfconscious laughter when their gazes met.

“How long do your Transfigurations usually last?” Harry asked, pulling out his own wand, too. He added another few white lilies on the shrub with the blue ones.

Scorpius shrugged. “One might never know. Perhaps you’ll end up with a garden permanently filled with exotic, flowery attachments on your very neat and very dull shrubs. Let me see what you’ve come up with.” Scorpius heaved himself up from the lounge chair and went over to inspect one of the lilies that Harry had just summoned. As he smelt the flower, he hummed pleasantly.

Harry had never thought about the intimacy of such Transfigurations, made up from one’s mind’s eye. Curious what Scorpius might see in his flower and even more so what Scorpius’s Transfigurations looked like, Harry followed and had a close look on the blooming shrubbery. “Yours look much more detailed than mine.”

“Yeah, but yours smell really good.” Scorpius gestured towards the blossom and Harry bowed his head to sniff it. The scent reminded him of vanilla and something rather more fruity than flowery, and he wasn’t sure whether a real flower would smell this way. Harry enjoyed the compliment, though, and he ducked his head again, burying his nose in the flowers that Scorpius had summoned. They did smell more neutral and not as cloying, but Harry preferred that the scent wasn’t as overpowering.

When he looked back up, Scorpius was looking down into the neglected pond. “Why would you have a pond without fish swimming in it?”

Harry chuckled and followed to stare down into the shallow water. “No idea. That was the way it was when I moved in.”

“Mhm.” Scorpius thought for a moment. “You see—this is what I meant when I said that your life won’t begin to happen without you living it. I’d suggest—once we’re at it—either vanish the whole pond at once or summon some fish until you replace them with real ones someday. I’d hope, rather sooner than later. It’s your birthday in… ten day! Good Circe. I could totally get you fishes or plants for your birthday!”

Without discussing a thing, they started to grow the grasses and add some reeds to the pond; conjured gold-gleaming koi fishes, patched with vivid oranges and deepest blacks; a shallow water fountain that flowed away peacefully over some rocks, adding sound and movement to the speck of water; and blooming lily pads of deep green and the softest rose. The whole habitat came to life; the heavy air vibrating from their laughter and their combined magic. Harry watched in awe as Scorpius’s next wand movements produced colourful dragonflies the size of a hand.

“They’ll like it here, as long as they last,” Scorpius said while watching the insects hover lazily above the water.

However fascinated he was with this beautiful spell, Harry found that his eyes came to rest on Scorpius. Before he could help himself, Harry said, “You’re so stunning,” his voice cracking between a hum and a whisper.

Scorpius’s head perked up at that, his eyes sparkling with something that made him look almost a little desperate when his grey eyes met Harry’s. “ _You_ are stunning,” he responded with a huffed laugh and a flattered smile.

~

Hardly ever had Scorpius felt this nervous and hopeful at the same time. He was a bundle of nerves and the sensation was too heavy on his chest, pushing down on him until no breath was left. 

For the split second that his brain still worked, Scorpius thought of Albus’s encouragement. So he did it. Scorpius mustered up all his courage and took the two steps that separated him from Harry, raised his arms, and crossed them in the nape of Harry’s neck, leaving their faces mere centimetres apart from each other.

“I want a sober kiss,” Scorpius whispered. “If you still want to kiss me.”

In lieu of answering, Harry closed the distance and just for a moment, Scorpius thought that his lungs might implode. He’d waited _so long_. A breathy sigh escaped his mouth, met with a tremble that shook Harry’s entire body; and with just that they melted together, stripping off all the inhibitions that had dragged them apart prior to that blissful day. 

Harry’s hands were on Scorpius’s sides, then on the small of his back, urging him closer. Scorpius pressed his body against Harry until their chests and hips were aligned.

“Can we…” Scorpius hasn’t been sure what he even asked for until he started to say it. But Harry understood.

Harry turned them on the spot and when they popped up right in Harry’s bedroom, Scorpius was so surprised by the sudden Apparition that he laughed. He tried to stop himself from chuckling by kissing Harry as he saw a hint of insecurity blossom in Harry’s eyes.

“That’s… You want this, right?”

“There’s nothing I want more than you.” Scorpius rubbed his face over the stubble of Harry’s jaw, then pressed his face into the crook of his neck, relishing the enticing scent that has always been naught but a tease, barely a hint that met his nostrils for a second before it fell out of reach. Harry’s arms were looped around his lower back and held him in a firm embrace. Scorpius took all the time in the world to kiss his way up, dragging his lips over the column of Harry’s neck, exploring the pulse point with his tongue, experimentally sucking on it until Harry moaned.

“Your hair smells so lovely,” Harry said, his hands reaching lower until they squeezed Scorpius’s arse, and Scorpius couldn’t help but gasp from the exciting sensation.

“Oh, Circe. _Please_ , Harry. Let’s…” He dragged Harry to the bed and pulled him down with him, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he went back to kissing Harry’s lush lips, then his neck again, his hands searching for the hem of his shirt. His fingers finally brushed a patch of bare, hot skin then, sneaking higher to find a sinewy belly and a hairy chest.

Harry pulled his shirt over his head, exposing all his delicious skin for only Scorpius to see. He leaned into Scorpius then, kissing him and firmly pushing him back, his hand securing Scorpius’s back to lower him down on the mattress. All of Scorpius’s blood rushed to his groin while they shifted into a horizontal position ever so slowly.

The kissing stopped suddenly and there was a solid grip around Scorpius’s hands. “Scorpius,” Harry said softly. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Scorpius reassured him quickly. “Well, I’m just… I guess I’m a bit nervous, is all. Please don’t stop.” He took Harry’s spectacles off to put them on the nightstand and pulled his face down for a kiss, part of his attention shifting back from his hard prick to the sensual feeling of Harry’s mouth, the way his lips reflexively parted for Harry’s tongue and how luxuriously ticklish it felt when their tongues explored one another's.

When Scorpius broke their kiss to catch his breath, he summoned up the final threads of his courage. “I’ve, erm… I’ve never done this.” He’d almost felt like asking whether his kisses were okay but, Merlin, was he afraid to sound like a child.

“What exactly?” Harry asked in a hoarse murmur, his lips coasting over the sensitive skin on Scorpius’s neck.

“Uhm, well. Everything, I guess.”

Harry looked up at this. “You’re talking about sex, I assume.”

“Sex, for starters. Yes.”

“Erm… Blowjobs? Petting?” Scorpius shook his head. “ _Kissing_?” Scorpius shook his head again.

Harry buried his face in the crook of Scorpius’s neck then, taking a deep breath. “How?” he asked, his lips brushing Scorpius’s skin. “You’re such an amazing person and you’re so beautiful. How have you never had a boyfriend at Hogwarts?”

Scorpius knew it was now or never. “I only liked you. For years. I didn’t want anyone else and never have.”

Harry held him close then, pushing one arm underneath the small of his back and the other one below his neck. They lay like that for a moment before Harry rolled them over so that they were on their sides, facing one another.

“You’d tell me if you didn’t want anything we did, wouldn’t you? You'd only need to tell me, Scorpius. Anything. We could just kiss for now if that was what you wanted.”

“Of course,” Scorpius said under his breath. “But I do want this. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. And I am, well, _we are_ ,” he gestured down their bodies before he helplessly finished, “hard.”

Harry smiled and kissed him again, but much slower this time. His lips didn’t part, instead his soft and pliant mouth brushed and pressed against Scorpius’s own gingerly, sending a tingling sensation over his face and across his nape. The touch of Harry’s calloused hands was almost too much on Scorpius’s side when Harry reached under the hem of his shirt, slowly wandering upwards with a firm pressure.

Scorpius sat up for a moment to strip his shirt off, and when he lay back down, he pressed his body close against Harry’s, snuggling close to the other man's hot, sun-kissed skin. Harry’s lips found Scorpius’s neck, his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, and Scorpius worried that he might get a little _too excited_ from just the kisses.

“Fuck,” Scorpius whispered when Harry’s head dived lower, and Scorpius's hard-on twitched, pressing the unrelenting fabric of his taut shorts. Suddenly Harry’s hand was right there, squeezing the bulge of Scorpius’s embarrassingly eager cock, and Scorpius couldn’t stop cursing the gods under his breath while his hips ungracefully bucked into Harry’s hand.

Harry’s chortle vibrated through his body while Scorpius’s hands found Harry’s shoulder, grabbing onto him, half for support and half to stop him. “If you keep doing that, I’ll come in my pants.”

He felt Harry’s smile against the soft of his belly, followed by a kiss and a low murmur. “You come whenever, darling. Don’t be embarrassed.” A pleasant shiver ran down Scorpius’s spine and revived his useless hands and began fumbling with his belt. A breath was caught in his lungs when he saw Harry’s jade-green eyes, dilated, and darkened with arousal, and want for him.

~

Harry watched Scorpius’s prominent Adam’s apple bob as he double-checked for his consent again, before he tugged the clothes down, trousers and pants in one go, and Scorpius’s rosy prick sprung free, bouncing against his belly, his tip gleaming and wet with precum. “You’re so beautiful, darling,” Harry said, grazing Scorpius’s velvety skin with his lips. He licked all the way up then, from his balls to the tip, and Scorpius gasped, his fingers knotting in Harry’s hair.

Spurred on from all the responsiveness of his teasing, Harry kissed the head of Scorpius’s prick again before he swallowed him, holding the narrow, trembling hips beneath him with firm hands.

“Oh fuck, oh Harry,” Scorpius muttered, huffing out air noisily, his hands searching for more grip on the back of Harry’s head. “Harry, I’m-“ He shut himself up by throwing an arm over his face, his hips grinding up into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallowed and sucked him through his trembling orgasm, gracing his own groin with a firm squeeze through his trousers while Scorpius’s alluring taste and scent was all his mind could focus on.

He lapped on the head of Scorpius’s prick until Scorpius’s hand stopped urging his head down on him and rather stopped his movements against his shoulder.

“Let me see you,” Harry whispered as he heaved himself up, leaning over Scorpius who lowered his arm, looking up at Harry with a flushed face, breathing heavily.

“This felt… _so good_.” Scorpius rolled them over, wasting no time to reciprocate as he leaned down for a deep kiss, his lips hot and pliant. The orgasm seemed to have shaken off some of Scorpius nerves, too. His shoulders looked just a little bit more relaxed, his travelling hands felt warm and far steadier as they found their way down Harry’s stomach and slipped carefully into his shorts.

Harry didn’t want this hot, open-mouthed kiss ever to end, but Scorpius was eager to see every inch of him apparently. Instead of struggling to shove his hands down his pants, Scorpius tugged on Harry’s shorts and he lifted his hips for him.

Scorpius muttered something nonsensical under his breath and Harry watched him curl his long elegant fingers around his hard prick, the pristine skin of his hand pale agianst Harry's flushed cock. Scorpius did so with a near reverence before he tightened his grip and started stroking him, experimentally rolling his foreskin down, smoothing his palm over Harry’s head and then working up a quick pace that pulled Harry away from his close observation. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the prickling sensation that had begun to spread through his nether regions.

The feeling intensified when Scorpius straddled him and took them both in hand, leaning over him to lean his forehead on Harry’s chest, both of them puffing out breaths and moans in the sticky air of the bedroom. With Scorpius, already hard for him again, moving and grinding on top of him, Harry’s mind couldn’t help but trail off to more. 

More heat, more friction, _closer_.

The tingling tensed in Harry’s belly before he could fully prepare for it. His hand reflexively pressed Scorpius’s head closer and his hips rutted up into Scorpius’s hands, against his hard prick, and just a breath later, Harry spurted, feeling the warmth drip onto his belly.

Harry urged Scorpius to sit up then, so that Harry’s hand could take over and replace Scorpius’s own. While Harry stroked him through his orgasm, Scorpius’s back arched, exposing his taut chest, gleaming with sweat and Harry’s spunk. “You’re so beautiful,” Harry whispered, his voice hoarse, as he watched Scorpius come, hips rocking into his hand, his head thrown back, cursing loudly.

Panting and with his thighs still slightly trembling, Scorpius slumped down on top of Harry. They just lay there for a while, the two of them simply breathing and unbothered by the heat culminating in between their bodies.

~

Later that day, the slight pull of the Wards rang through Harry as both Albus and Draco arrived almost simultaneously. Albus brought Scorpius’s festive robes with him; Draco brought some folders from a case they’d been working on in recent weeks.

Draco eyed Scorpius, then Harry before he dropped the files on the table in the garden. “Thought you might need some distraction after last night, Potter. But it seems the two of you managed to find some enjoyment in this dreadful heat rather than bothering with a short owl message that you hadn’t died from intoxication.”

“Oh, listen to him,” Harry said with a chuckle, while Scorpius got up from the lounge chair to kiss Draco’s cheek and hug Albus. “He’s worried about me.”

“Is this what it looks like, mate?” Albus asked in an excited voice, nodding over to Harry and then looking back at Scorpius. Hearing his son ask this so bluntly and right in front of Draco stirred a queasy feeling in Harry’s stomach. Harry glanced over to Draco, a little unsure whether either of them should say anything. But the aristocratic arch of his eyebrow, thin lips, mild glare—it gave nothing away.

“Mm, yes,” Scorpius said then, a sheepish smile on his face as he caught his Dad’s eye. “I think, we… Wait, are we?” He looked at Harry then who knew it was time to summon some courage. Talking about this to Draco might be hard, but there was simply no way that he’d let Scorpius feel anxious about what they had together.

“Scorpius—of course,” he said, stepping closer to him to rest his hand on the small of Scorpius’s back. He was rewarded with a beaming smile and eager eyes, glittering blue and silver in the afternoon sun. “Well, we’re,” Harry switched through all the different phrasings, all sounding odd in his mind, before he simply ended with, “in love.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether he was surprised or whether he had secretly expected Albus to say, “Fucking finally,” and for Draco to roll his eyes rather than to hex him. Instead of standing there and waiting for something bad to happen, Harry quickly set up a table, brought iced tea and some snacks. He laughed while Albus told them about Molly and Andromeda volunteering a corny song at the reception after drinking too much sherry; he resisted the urge to hug Draco when Draco whispered something into Scorpius’s ear and ruffled his hair afterwards, a fond smile on his face.

Scorpius seemed to sense Harry’s eyes on him then, and he scooted a little closer to Harry, linking their fingers and leaning against his shoulder. “Hope you’re feeling less bitter and more alive today, Harry.”

“Only thanks to you, my darling.”

Scorpius leaned in for a quick, gentle kiss, which resulted in Draco rolling his eyes and Albus hooting and demanding a toast on the newly formed couple. They spent the whole afternoon in Harry’s garden, the four of them laughing and glaring and bickering like always. 

Only that it was the garden and not the living room. A garden buzzing with insects, graced by shiny dragonflies attracted by the lively pond and the dulcet scent of blooming flowers. 

Only that Scorpius sat closer to him and that he would stay overnight. Then they would wake up together in the morning, sharing the bed and safe in the knowledge that the day ahead of them was their own. _A life ahead of us_ , Harry thought as he squeezed Scorpius’s hand and felt the reassuring pressure of his fingertips on the back of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> <3
> 
> This work is part of the HP ScarryFest 2021. The author will be revealed on 31st March 2021.


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